Spectrum of a Hundred Emotions
by Luxuria De'Voire
Summary: "Emotions like streets. So many you get lost in them all" 100 drabbles, oneshots, and multi's of CANAAN. All pairings, all types of scenarios


Hello fellow fanfictioners! I have recently fallen in love for the second time with the phenomenal show that is CANAAN. With characters as beautiful and deep as the ones in CANAAN, I just couldn't let their story go after thirteen episodes. This project is also to help improve my writing and ability to simply "write" without thinking too much, using only a prompt :). I can't wait to get started on this project, and I hope you all enjoy these stories.

CANAAN just doesn't have enough love ;3;

So here's the lineup for the project. I will write for _EVERY PAIRING_ and _EVERY GENRE_! YAAAYY :D. Though I plan to write every piece set in the universe of the show, I may have one or two that are not. But in all honesty, I have zero plans for this story, and I like it that way :D. Gets me away from my main stories where I do nothing but plan out the plot-lines and development xD.

ALRIGHT! MOVING ON! Now that that's over with onto the first chapter of…

_**Spectrum of a Hundred Emotions**_

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Challenge 1

_Introduction_

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The sliver of metal clanged off of the wooden board clumsily before falling into the dusty dirt below. The human target painted on the plank wobbled slightly from the contact, not a single scrape visible on its surface.

A small and tan young girl wearing a tie-front purple, green lined crop top and black pants groaned as she pouted visibly, a distinct childish frown painted on her scrunched up face. Her dark hair framed her face neatly and just barely passed her shoulder blades and forehead. She crossed her arms with an irritated harrumph.

A rugged, battered man stood tall beside her while smoking a half-bit cigarette, one arm stuffed into his worn jacket pocket while the other held up the stress-reliever. He tilted his head to the right to gaze at the shorter child through his peripheral vision, giving a grunt of inquiry.

"It's no use," she grumbled. "I _suck_."

A gentle snort of laughter rumbled in the sage's throat as an ashy vapor filtered out of his parted mouth.

Puffing up her cheeks, the girl turned to face the man as she was insulted by him finding her situation humorous.

"No one even uses knives anymore. They're so…so medieval!" she cried, her vocabulary choice causing Siam to chuckle.

"Even old things have their place in the present."

Pressing his warm cigarette through his dry lips, the wise man breathed in the gentle smoke of the small wrap while closing his eyes steadily.

She grunted loudly before turning back to face the target,

"You're one to talk." She mumbled lowly.

"Try again." Siam lowered his cig to blow more fumes out of his rustic gullet, thick lines lining the outside of his throat like aged roots.

The young child once again groaned as she picked up another dark knife. Holding it in her hand for a moment, her concentration betrayed her as something more interesting caught her attention.

"Why can't I learn how to use _that_?" she yipped while pointing at Siam's jacket.

The man glanced downward at where she was pointing,

"What?"

"_That_!"

Looking down at his pocket, Siam realized what it was that attracted the girl's interest. A black FN Five-seveN pistol. The jet black, shiny surface of the weapon's grip panel and frame peaked out from the part in the fabric's folds, a glint glimmering across the matte black coloring as Siam pulled the edge of his jacket towards him.

The girl placed both hands on her visible hips as her deep russet-coffee eyes flickered wildly,

"Yeah. I always see you using it to take out targets and scary lizards. 'Member when you blasted that snake's head off? That was so cool!"

"_Canaan_."

Siam interrupted roughly, his voice deepening in tone. The girl's hands dropped as her eyes suddenly lost the luster present only seconds before. Her face contorted into one of subtle confusion, the tone of her mentor foreign to her young, green ears.

Grabbing hold of the grip on the gun, Siam pushed it deeper into his pocket,

"Guns aren't just tools. They're _weapons_," He exhaled as a dark pallid cloud trailed out of his sand-stricken lips. "Knives have multiples uses. Guns only have one—"

Looking at her teacher's eyes, the young girl turned her gaze too so that it was facing the same random direction Siam's was, hoping to see what the older, more experience man was seeing.

"To kill."

A broken hush of wind passed by along the surface of the charred, dusty earth, kicking up a few dust devils beneath the two figure's feet.

The red-tipped cig dropped into the sandy surface before finding itself being crushed by the bottom of Siam's boot. It's small, powerful embers brutally being crushed; their warmth and light gone instantly.

"Come. It's getting late." He muttered gently, slowly turning his form to walk back to their encampment.

The Arabian girl watched her teacher trudge away in his rugged boots, her eyes filled with an unknown emotion as they flickered dimly from the setting sun's crimson rays. She turned her head to look back at the knife lying in the sandy ground, but stopped midway pulling her gaze forward before trotting off after Siam.

XXX

The fire shimmered faintly, limited to a low flame by the cold night's dry air. The two mercenaries, _ex_ and _to-be_, slept under a roofless, sandstone house that had been deteriorated down to rubble from past wars and storms, but walls in itself were a blessing. There was no wind in the dark midnight sky, which was a rare occurrence in the desert. It was considered the break of the usual; the stormy winds that usually picked up in the dunes of the East never ceased, but tonight all was hushed.

Siam snored coarsely, but not enough for anyone more than a couple feet away could hear. The tattered covering over his body and the rustic bedding under his rugged form was more than enough as a luxury item for the ex-mercenary, and as long as it got the job done Siam didn't care if it was made of rat's hide. The older man slept deeply, but not soundly—his soul always ready to spring into action.

He dreamed of nothing most of the time. In fact, the man couldn't remember the last dreamy phantasmagoria that had passed him in the darkness of sleep. Most of his dreaming occurred in the calm, sleepless hours of the day while smoking his one and true permanent companion. Every exhale of brume danced into the open air like a miasma of memories, never pertaining to one in particular, let alone real thoughts. Fictional or not, faces always made their way into the steamy grey that formed mysteriously in front of his face. Siam wondered, in thought or in sleep (he wasn't quite sure), if his new student would ever be a part of those hazy films of distant days…

Suddenly, something stirred the man awake. After years of experience, Siam had no need for ridding the sleep off of him; he simply opened his eyes and grabbed for his gun, his hand quietly snaking towards the Five-seveN. It was gone.

The older man sat up quickly before rushing towards the broken and dilapidated doorway of the structure. But as his foot reached the barrier between the rock-frame and the outside, he stopped in his tracks, a soft smile covering his once stricken lips.

Standing a couple of meters away near the stand-up target was his apprentice, holding the dark weapon at her side quietly.

Siam crossed his arms and leaned against the inside of the doorway to watch, wondering what the girl was thinking. He nearly expected this would happen, but he still couldn't get over how easily she had stolen his gun. She clearly had experience…or a lot of luck.

Shifting her weight back and forth invisibly, the young child clicked back the safety on the tool, having seen her mentor perform the act many a time before. Lifting the surprisingly light weapon up with a trembling hand, she grasped the grip with her left palm and fingers as well to balance out the shaking of her bones. She pulled the trigger.

_BAM_

She had closed her eyes and flung her face away upon pulling the small hook, and her body shook even more. Her dark brown eyes opened hesitantly before glancing towards the target. A small puncture had been ingrained into the dirt hill behind the target. A sigh escaped her lips, one of relief and disappointment.

The older sage watching from afar closed his eyes as he placed a cig in his mouth, but at the sound of the gun's slide being pulled back again, ready to for another shot, the man glanced up curiously, the white stick in his mouth cold on his lips.

The girl pulled the slide back as she readied another shot, but a strange and sudden wind blustered by causing her hair to whip across her face. Her eyes softened as she looked down to avoid any sand from getting into her delicate eyes. She lowered the gun back down into her right hand as she used her left to reach into her pants' pocket.

Siam was now watching more intently than he thought necessary, but he was impressed with the girl's undying will. He could've stepped in. Why he didn't was a mystery to him. Flicking the lid of his lighter, the flame caught the tip of the white roll instantly, but the man's eyes widened slightly as he turned his attention back to the girl.

She wrapped her hands around her hair carefully, the gun in her side pocket as she tied it up into a tress, the dark hair flowing straight downward and in between her shoulder blades. Lengths of hair remained out of the tie and framed her face whipping separately across her cheeks from the sharp gust of wind. Her gentle yet calloused hand reached down and grabbed the gun's handle.

Siam's eyes widened in pure curio. The gun now parallel to the dusty earth below, her left hand joined its counterpart at the grip and wrapped her dainty fingers carefully over the frame.

_Canaan. _

Her index finger extended to pull the trigger.

_You who are born within destruction—_

As her skin pressed against the thin strip of metal, the girl's eyes began to change.

—_take hatred as your weapon._

Her candid dark eyes focused in on the target and her pupils thinned to fierce, serpentine slits.

_Learn how to wield it,_

She pulled the trigger and the murderous gun howled, the bullet screaming through the midnight air. Canaan stood tall and unmoving with the gun still in hand, but the night was too dark to tell where the bullet hit.

…_And you will be invincible._

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Hope you all liked it!

R&R is always greatly appreciated~plus I love chatting with my readers :D

Until next time... :3


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